


Regret

by photosynthiseyesing



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3976768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photosynthiseyesing/pseuds/photosynthiseyesing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik, in his prison, thinks about Charles and what could have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for what could be seen as self harm.

It’s been approximately 946 days since Erik left Charles on the beach, and the same number of days since he’s smiled. He never thought that he’d miss Charles so much. He’s insufferably optimistic, irritatingly driven, and the crinkles around his obnoxiously blue eyes when he smiles are the last thing Erik thinks about every night before he falls asleep.

It’s bloody typical, really – half the world is in love with him and his pick-up lines. He never tried them on Erik, but it was obvious that he wanted to. He had this smile, sometimes, when he thought he had a chance with someone. Erik had seen it time and time again on their road trip, before Charles approached some girl in a bar. It was the same smile that he’d give Erik later on, before opening his mouth to speak and then changing his mind and closing it.

It was was around half way through the road trip when Charles stopped trying to pick up girls and started gazing at Erik like a child realising that the stars are more than fairy lights in the sky. At night, they would share a room in whatever cheap motel the CIA had set them up, and as they lay on the beds separated by a chasm of 1.5 feet of space they would speak without words. In the orange streetlight glow through the thin curtains, they would lie on their sides and face each other. 

They would converse, in a way. Charles would open a telepathic link, and they would float thoughts back and forth, a conversation in the half-formed scenes our minds form at 1am. Some of this was relevant to their lives at the time, and some was not. Erik learnt how Charles’s mother drifted through the house, a superficial echo of perfume, and Charles felt a fraction of Erik’s pain as his mother was torn away from him. They remembered, mostly, and shared these memories without reservation. 

Often one of them fell asleep before the link was broken, and it was on these nights that they shared dreams too. When Charles dreamt, he dreamt in hazy fragments partly siphoned from the thoughts of those he encountered. When Erik dreamt, he dreamt mostly in nightmares, harsh and jarring. He’d jolt awake at the same time as Charles, and wordlessly stretch an arm out to clutch Charles’s hand. Charles would rub circles on his hand with his thumb, silently comforting, and they would stare blankly at the ceiling until sleep once again enveloped them. 

Erik never questioned his feelings for Charles, although neither did he discuss them. He regrets this sometimes, while he lies on the floor and stares at the walls of this prison. There is no doubt in his mind that Charles felt the same way for him. After all, how could there be when he’d been inside Charles’ head time and time again? 

Erik often pictures how his life could be if he hadn’t put on the helmet that day on the beach. He feels nostalgic for things that never happened, and he pictures himself with Charles. He doesn’t think they could ever have lived what would be considered a normal life, but he thinks that they could have been happy. He thinks that they could have been a family of sorts, the guidance for the younger mutants that he’d never had. Erik doesn’t have much experience with happy, but for a while he almost had Charles, and that was the closest he’d been in a long time. 

For a while, the knot in his stomach had loosened. It’s funny, really, because he’d never noticed that it was there until it wasn’t. It was made of fury fuelled by injustice and a desire for vengeance, and on the beach that day it had came back in full force. It made Erik feel strong; holding him upright and steering him with a sense of duty. 

In hindsight, this is how he justifies putting the helmet on his head and blocking out Charles. Charles made him weak, vulnerable, and that were things he could not afford to be. He needed to be strong for his people, for all those who had ever been victimised for being who they were. 

That isn’t to say that he feels now any pride over what he did, and almost did. In fact, what he feels more than anything is guilt and remorse for what he’s done to Charles. He can’t quite picture him in a wheelchair. In his mind, he still sees him as he always was, and the change is unthinkable. He feels as though it is selfish for him to feel bad, because a small part of him mourns only for what he could have had with Charles. Overwhelming self hatred features heavily in Erik’s mind these days.

Sometimes Erik isn’t sure if he is awake or dreaming. He can feel himself losing his grip on reality, and frankly, he isn’t certain he wants to live in reality anyway. Often, Erik finds himself digging his nails into his hands, or trailing them across his arms, just to give himself something to feel. Afterwards, he traces the raised red lines and beads of blood with a finger, and thinks about escaping. He’s not sure where he would go. Anywhere would be better than here. Here, all he can do is think, and so this is what he does. He is drowning in the past and in himself, and he is the last person he would want to be trapped with forever. Mostly, Erik is filled with regret for what could have been. Perhaps he could have been happy.


End file.
